Fixing Everything

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I am always fixing things.

Prying open something with a screwdriver; applying glue; oh that reminds me the veneer on the leg of the dining room table needs glue. Quick before it falls off. The vacuum cleaner must have banged it.

Shopping bags—paper and plastic—are dropped and forgotten. Inside are the materials necessary to fix something. Who remembers? Is this me in my dotty old age? Surrounded by bags full of unfulfilled projects!

Would I recall what project was intended if I peered into one of these bags? Or conversely, if I resolved to finish a particular project can I find the bag with the needed materials?

This entry was posted in Musings, Writings.